Madeline made a lame excuse about muffins and retreated to the kitchen. “First call: wildlife management. Or the exterminator? Not sure. Second-talk to the neighbors,” she muttered to herself, starting a plan of action checklist. Her favorite kind.
She didn’t know any of the neighbors very well yet, and was nervous about accusing anyone of causing problems. After breakfast, she put on her best southern smile and packed a basket of muffins. The closest neighbor was across the town road that ran just in front of the property.
“This will be awkward,” she whispered to herself as she gingerly knocked.
A cacophony of barking, whining, and dog claws on a wooden floor announced her arrival. Donald’s two very large and very enthusiastic hunting dogs were barely contained by the glass door that separated them from their new visitor.
“Will you two please calm down?!” Donald pushed his way through the flying fur to open the door. “Are you brave enough to come in?”
“Sure-unless you are going to bite me.” Madeline winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth. I’m a huge dork, she thought. “I have muffins!”
“Sweet!” Donald responded. “Sugar is my spirit animal!”
Ah, right, Madeline thought. Donald was not only the neighborhood eccentric, but an accomplished artist known for staying up for days on end courtesy of caffeine, sugar, and perhaps a little something more.
“Tea? Or something stronger?” Donald asked as they walked through the living room. The view through the windows was spectacular, showcasing his art as it should be seen – among the birch and fir trees.
“Tea, please-I have a lot to do today,” Madeline replied. Donald busied himself in the kitchen.
I will never not be amazed at the fall color here, Madeline thought as she gazed across Donald’s back yard and towards her pond. “When I was in elementary school and we did fall crafts, I never actually believed that leaves turned red-or orange even. Leaves turned brown, fell, and then grew back a couple of months later. But this… this is stunning.”
“Oh, yeah-for sure,” Donald handed Madeline a warm mug of Earl Grey tea before pulling out a small pipe and packing in some leaves for himself.
“So we had some – interesting events last night,” Madeline hoped she sounded nonchalant as she sank into the comfy couch. “In the carriage house.”
“What do you mean?” Donald exhaled with a little cough.
“I guess some neighborhood kids?” Madeline was feeling a little dumb. She didn’t even know if there were any neighborhood kids. “A couple of our guests heard people going up and down the stairs in the carriage house late last night, banging on doors-you know, kid stuff.”
“Huh,” Donald mused. “The kids on the street are all pretty little. I think. Pretty much anyone under 30 looks like a kid to me nowdays.”
“I’m sure it was just in fun,” Madeline fumbled, “I don’t think they meant any harm.”
“What exactly happened last night?” Donald asked.
Madeline retold the story as she remembered it.
“The weirdest part is where all of the guests said that it sounded like someone was dragging things around in the attic-except… there isn’t an attic up there. Well, there’s a crawl space … What?”
Donald’s eyes had narrowed and he became very still.
“What?” Madeline was alarmed. “Are you ok?”
“Um, well-I’m not sure,” Donald paused. “Actually, I am sure this has nothing to do with anything, but-not the last owner, the owner before them-I forgot their names. They were weird and didn’t really get involved in the neighborhood, they were getting ready to move out and the dude was moving furniture out of the carriage house and he died.”
“He DIED? You are fucking kidding me,” Madeline was stunned. “We asked about deaths on the property-the realtor didn’t mention that nugget of information.” Taylor is going to freak out.
“I don’t think they have to disclose information like that unless it’s a murder… I dunno. But I’m sure its fine. “
“So he died – naturally?”
“Well, sorta …”
“What the hell?” Madeline was starting to panic. “What does ‘sorta’ mean?”
“He might have been-encouraged to fall down the stairs,” Donald shifted his gaze from Madeline’s shocked expression. “But they never found the-uh-encourager.”
“So wait. You’re telling me that someone was possibly MURDERED in my house-and everyone just said ‘meh’?”
“Not exactly ‘meh,'” Donald fiddled with his small, glass pipe. “But I do know that the people right before you never said anything about weird noises in the carriage house.”
“Just because they didn’t say anything doesn’t mean they didn’t actually hear anything, though,” Madeline replied. “What were they like? Did you know them very well?”
“Not really,” admitted Donald. “They were only here a couple of years or so. The wife kept getting sick-weird stuff-and the doctor couldn’t ever find the cause. I think they chalked it up to stress, so they put the inn on the market and here we are.”
“They-or rather the realtor-told me that they discovered they didn’t really like the winter, so they were moving back to one of the Carolinas for better weather,” Madeline replied.
“I’m sure that was it,” Donald replied. “Are you sure it wasn’t a bear or something going up the stairs?”
“A BEAR? In the HOUSE? Please tell me you’re joking. They can’t do that, can they?”
“For sure they can-they do it all the time. They just open the door and go right in.” Donald seemed very unconcerned by the fact that he just told Madeline that bears can open doors. “They can even open the car doors. So don’t keep any food in there.”
“So-wait. Bears can just open up doors and help themselves to whatever happens to be in your car or your HOUSE?” Suddenly Madeline found herself hoping for a ghost.
“Yeah,” Donald shrugged. “One time a friend forgot to bring her bird feeder in from her balcony and this crazy bear climbed two stories, grabbed the feeder and ate all the seed. Then it opened the door to her bedroom and wandered downstairs to the kitchen. It was sitting in front of the refrigerator with the door open when she came home.”
“Oh my lord,” Madeline shivered. “What in the world did she do?”
“She opened the door and chased it out with a frying pan.”
“Jeezus. This place is nuts.” What in the world have we done? Madeline thought.
“Just wait until the turkeys invade.”